Chapter 49

It took Flint painfully long to rip himself away from the gate and find Alais. First, he went to the healer’s corner. Twylip told him she had last seen the old puck helping out with the wounded. By the time Flint got there, Alais had already moved on. Flint spotted an unconscious Ed with bandages around his torso, but the dryad assured him Ed wasn’t in any danger. They directed him to the tanner. Once there, Flint discovered the tanner had suffered a grievous injury, and his apprentice was taking the troll parts apart with a pair of brownies. Apparently, Alais was getting in the way, so they sent him away.

By the fourth location, Flint was frustrated and in pain. The discomfort had spread into his pelvis and was now creeping up his spine. He was on the verge of giving up when Maya came running downhill, yapping at him. Much to his surprise, she didn’t just broadcast a static image. Instead, she showed him the old puck trudging uphill, carrying a bright green eye as big as his fist.

“I don’t know if I have it in me to catch up to him.” Flint groaned.

The dogs took charge. Maya poked his functioning leg with her snout, then Bjorn plopped down into a seated position. At first, Flint didn’t understand what the two were getting at. Then Maya sent him a memory of the snow dog carrying Rowan uphill away from the rampaging giants. The axeman was taller than Flint and had a much wider frame too. If Bjorn could carry him, there was no reason he couldn’t bear Flint’s weight too.

Snowdog babble snapped Flint out of his hesitation, and he gave in. He slung a leg over Bjorn’s fluffy torso, and then they were moving uphill much faster than he could walk. They sped past the Heartstone, and, before long, they were at his camp. Alais sat by the pool, washing a giant eyeball. When he spotted Flint, the old puck washed his hands and face before standing up straight.

“I didn’t expect you to get moving so soon. In my not so expert medical opinion, you shouldn’t be moving at all. Twylip said you’re not the kind to sit around, though.”

“Well, when I heard you were testing my blood, I couldn’t exactly sit around patiently,” Flint said.

“Ah, yes,” Alais smirked. “Be warned, it’s just a theory, and I have no way to confirm it, but I’m almost sure.” He paused, probably waiting for a reaction from Flint. However, his skills at holding strong and not letting people bait into showing eagerness. Long ago, a senior builder had once told him that silence carried power. “Have you heard about the Cu Sith?”

“You mean the cow-sized fae moor hounds? That’s one of the few stories I have heard.” Flint smiled, looking away from the puck’s eyes. One of the few fond memories from his childhood resurfaced. “When I disappeared for days at a time, the matrons in the orphanage would ask whether I got carried away by the Cu Sith. Aren’t they just legends?”

“There isn’t a whole lot of evidence, and nowadays, most fae will claim they never existed. I’ve been around for a long time, though. After three or four centuries, most of us stop keeping track of age. So, I can’t tell you how long, but I remember hearing their howls during the full moon. They were the terror of my childhood, and mothers still use the Cu Sith to put their fawns to bed.”

“What are you trying to tell me? My ancestors were monstrous dogs?”

Alais laughed. “No, no. Some of us might look like animals, but that doesn’t mean we fornicate with them.” He plopped down by the pool, massaging his hairy goat legs. “There was a time long before the first war between human and fae when the druids visited the disk. They didn’t pray to any blacksmith or the deities the Wyld builds shrines to. Instead, they worshipped the many facets of nature. There’s not much information regarding them, but my research suggests they were neither human nor fae. Perhaps they were Wyldbloods. Maybe they were something completely different. There’s one fact that all fae scholars agree on, though. They were the ones that constructed the Heartstones.”

At first, Flint thought Alais was going off on an odd, unrelated tangent. However, the more the old puck spoke, the more Flint got sucked in. “The Iron Army doesn’t allow much talk about the religions from before they came into existence,” Flint said. He climbed off Bjorn’s back and groaned, lowering himself next to the pool “I remember during training, one of the cadets got lashed for asking an Iron Church priest about the Heartstone’s origins. He didn’t understand why the Great Smith didn’t just make the pillars out of iron.”

“That boy deserved a lashing,” Alais said. “That’s a stupid question. If it were the Iron Council’s Great Smith that built the pillars, he’d have the brains not to make them out of iron. The metal doesn’t age well, does it?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Anyway. I know for a fact the druids existed. There is plenty of evidence confirming their existence, just not enough records to detail what or who they were. As for the Cu Sith, I’d like to believe they existed—or they still do, and retreated into the deep wilds after the druids disappeared. The few recounts we have of the druids say that they divided themselves into several orders. Each order had a different totem—a beast they worshipped, befriended and travelled with.”

“And one of these orders had the Cu Sith as a totem?”

“You’re not a stupid man, Flint,” Alais said, flashing a soft smile. “The druids were empaths. They had a strong connection to our disk’s flora and fauna and had an especially powerful bond with their totem. I tested your blood. There are no traces of high fae in you, but unlike a regular human, your blood is rich with essence. Given your empathic abilities and strong connection to dogs, it’s likely one of your grandparents was a druid living as fae.”

“What does this mean for me?” Flint asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know. It might be that you’re capable of cultivating essence the same way the fae can. Perhaps you can get one of the casters to teach you the basics of their essence manipulation. It might just be that you’ll live longer than an ordinary human and have the ability to use your skill-stone-given abilities a lot more than normal. It’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. Unfortunately, I can only tell you what you’re not.”

“I’m not a Wyldblood?”

Alais shook his head. “You’re not descended from high fae, dryads, pixies, nymphs, or changelings.”

A young woman walking downhill paused on seeing the pair. She gulped on seeing the monstrous eye in Alias’s hands. Yet she edged closer, eyeing the puck and the big dogs. She didn’t say anything, but held out a large basket full of fruits. Alias helped himself to several pieces and attacked them hungrily. Flint only grabbed an apple at first, then a loud whine caught his attention.

It was the bloodhounds. The pair had followed him. Flint picked a piece of fruit for each pack member before letting the woman move on. Alias had fallen silent and appeared busy with his meal. Assuming they were done with the conversation, he [Guide Growth] and divide his pack’s essence. Maya and Bjorn’s node compasses had more grooves after the ones they’d filled. For the sheepdog, he stuck to the usual divisions.

Meanwhile, he avoided Bjorn’s [Aura] and poured the sand into [Control], bringing it to the first groove. Nothing lit up. So, he invested the rest in [Power].

As for the bloodhounds, he stuck to the same nodes as last time, bringing [Power] and [Control] a hair’s width from the first grooves. When he was done, all the dogs except for Maya had grown. Bjorn experienced the least change, but his fur felt thicker. Aesthetic changes didn’t bother Flint as much. After seeing the pair in battle, Flint knew they’d be fine. Once he figured out how to manipulate his personal essence, Flint hoped to find a way to strengthen them further. He refused to let any other dog die while in his care.

“Thanks, Alais,” Flint said, mounting Bjorn once again. “This has been an enlightening conversation. If what you’re saying is true, there is a lot more I can do for this land than I initially thought.”

“We’re not done.” Alais whipped a glass vial out of his pocket. A chunk of smoking purple meat sat in it. “Winona didn’t want to concern you unnecessarily, so she gave me this to investigate. I’m afraid it is a valid reason for concern?”

“What is it?” Flint asked, taking the container for him. He held it up to the [Totem of Healing], and no light made it through the thick smoke.

“Winona dug these out of the Vikings that escaped. These artificially bolstered their essence, giving them inhuman strength.” Alais snatched the container back when Flint tried opening the container with his injured hand. “Don’t!”

“What is it then?”

“A chunk of the Forgotten Gods.”

“What?” Flint chuckled at the concept of holding a piece of divinity in his hands. “That looks sick and poisoned.”

“That’s because it is to us. It doesn’t matter whether you’re human or fae. No one should be consuming that flesh. It perverts their essence and existence, turning them into something that shouldn’t really exist. These alien energies only exist in the void after all.” Alais sighed, returning the container to his pocket. “I’m afraid this problem transcends the Iron Legions and the Wyld. The Forgotten Gods aren’t entities of any disk but of the void between them. They exist to devour both life and essence so they can transcend to a greater dimension. That’s what I believe anyway. I’m afraid we know even less about them than the druids, but I know that we should be worried. They’re a threat to existence on the whole disc.”

“I guess that’s not ominous at all.” Flint sighed. “Thanks, Alais. As if dealing with the Iron Legions and Wyld wasn’t bad enough. Now we have to worry about forgotten gods too.”